


Love of My Life

by genevievedarcygranger



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel/Demon Relationship, Angels vs. Demons, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Based on a Queen Song, Biblical Allusions (Abrahamic Religions), Biblical Reinterpretation, Biblical Scripture References (Abrahamic Religions), Biblical Themes (Abrahamic Religions), Demons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Fallen Angels, Flowers, Friends to Enemies, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Good Demons, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Language of Flowers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Song Lyrics, Song: Love Of My Life (Queen), Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25980535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievedarcygranger/pseuds/genevievedarcygranger
Summary: The aftermath of their meeting at Saint James’ Park.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 22





	Love of My Life

_"Love of my life, don't leave me._

_You've stolen my love; you now desert me._

_Love of my life, can't you see?_

_Bring it back, bring it back._

_Don't take it away from me,_

_Because you don't know_

_What it means to me."_

\- "Love of My Life," _Queen._

* * *

As Crowley and Aziraphale's partnership in business increased over the years, they have found increasingly new ways to communicate in order to keep their partnership under wraps from their respective offices. After the Hamlet Favor, as they've taken to calling it, they found the best way to send messages to each other of when to meet was through flowers. Crowley figured that his office wouldn't think twice about such benign things, and Aziraphale thought that his office would never be able to decode what flowers meant anyway. It was their happy compromise, and so began their Agreement.

It wasn't their original idea to use flowers. Actually, it was Shakespeare who started it. Aziraphale quite like Ophelia's scene with the pansies, rosemary, fennel, lilies, columbine, rue, daisy, and violets. He thought the young actor was perhaps the most talented one of the play; and the flowers were very beautiful. All of them had been native to the Garden of Eden, Aziraphale remembered. He had been there when he watched Eve name them as she plucked the buds from the stems and weave them into her hair one afternoon by the trickling stream.

Perhaps it had been his nostalgia that suggested the roses, and Crowley, who had a small but extensive garden immediately volunteered his plants for use. Looking back, Aziraphale remembered that Crowley had blushed at the suggestion before agreeing. He should have seen the signs earlier, if he had been paying attention.

All of it started going pear-shaped for them when one day at his bookshop, he received a nosegay of red columbines and purple geraniums. After tipping the urchin child that delivered the flowers – and using a miracle to sweep away some of the dirt and repair the tears on his clothes – Aziraphale took the flowers to his office to place them in a vase. Despite the years and years, he and Crowley spent perfecting the flower language into succinctness, Aziraphale always kept a book on hand just to double check. He pulled it out now and placed his glasses on the very tip of his upturned nose. The red columbines meant Crowley was anxious, and the purple geraniums asked Aziraphale to dance. "He wants to meet soon," the angel murmured to himself as he put away the book and his glasses again.

For a moment, he allowed himself to admire the flowers in the vase, then he returned to the urchin boy who lingered conspicuously by the door, waiting for a message. Smiling at the urchin, Aziraphale went for a magic trick – using actual magic this time – and offered the urchin a bunch of pink phloxes. "Return to sender please. He'll pay you handsomely." The urchin didn't waste time marveling at the flowers or the miracle he witnessed, and scampered off.

Taking a deep breath, Aziraphale cleared his shop of patrons, and by the time it was finished, it was time to meet Crowley at St. James' park, the only place they ever met. Grabbing his top hat and his white gloves, Aziraphale began his stroll.

* * *

He was back in the shop before the sun went down, still fuming from what Crowley had asked of him. Aziraphale was furious at Crowley's selfishness, but most of all he was furious with himself for being so hurt and surprised. All along, he knew that he was in partnership with a demon, but he thought Crowley was different from all the rest, respectable at least. But no, he was just like them; selfish.

Crowley had asked for a way out – for the demonic equivalent of cyanide in case they were found out. Aziraphale outright denied on two accounts. For one, the Almighty forbade suicide. It was one of Her biggest sins. The angel knew that the rule was for humans because everything was a test in order to get into Heaven, though he wasn't exactly sure if the rule applied to angels and demons as well. For another, though, Aziraphale couldn't believe Crowley would be so cowardly as to just accept complete nonexistence. It wasn't fair! They were friends! Aziraphale didn't want to be in a world without Crowley now!

Once he realized that, Aziraphale's gasp echoed in his empty bookshop, only the books as his audience. "Oh," Aziraphale said to himself. He put his ungloved hand over his heart, feeling its irregular beating in his chest. "Oh my."

* * *

After that, Crowley did not show up at the bookshop, but sent several different flowers to make his opinion clear. At first Aziraphale couldn't even recognize some of the blooms because they had never used them before to communicate, but then he found a copy of the text that Crowley had to have been using to send flowers, and he was back to being furious with the demon again.

The first nosegay Crowley sent him were yellow carnations. As soon as the new little street urchin passed the bundle into Aziraphale's hands, the angel stamped his foot. "Disdain? For me? How dare he?" Aziraphale shoved the flowers back into the boy's hands. "Return these to sender. He'll pay you double. Do not let him try to send anything back here. Do you understand me?" The boy trembled and nodded, and Aziraphale immediately felt guilty and miracled some money into the boy's pockets as he fled from the bookshop.

He did not receive anymore bundles that day, but the next day, Crowley sent him white candytuft. Apparently, Crowley's disdain had only softened into indifference over the course of a day. This time Aziraphale chose not to return the flowers, but he didn't keep them either, throwing them into the waste bin. "Thank you," he said tersely the new street urchin, and paid him again. "I have no message to return. No need to go back to that man, dear boy. Go buy yourself some candy."

This time Crowley only waited a week before his pride broke and he sent Aziraphale more flowers. Aziraphale suspected that he had been waiting for Aziraphale to reach out to him, but he wasn't going to do that. If he wanted holy water, Aziraphale wanted nothing to do with him anymore. When he received the bouquet of blue gentians, Aziraphale tossed the bouquet into the street and watched the passing horse carriages trample the buds until the petals lost their color to mud. The messenger boy watched him do it and then ran off before Aziraphale could give him any money.

Aziraphale hoped Crowley got the message.

By the time the next bouquet came, it had been a month, and it was the same messenger boy as it was the day Crowley asked to meet in the park. He clutched red currants in his oafish fist. For the first time, one of their messengers spoke. "M'lord said that 'e wanted me to tell you that these ones mean, 'Thy Frown Will Kill Me,' but 'e means 'im."

"Thank you, dear boy. You may keep the flowers if you want, and I have no message to return." Aziraphale passed along some of the candy that he had been snacking on while he perused one of his books. "You may leave now."

Another month passed before Crowley got the courage to send Aziraphale red sweet sultan and blue verbena. It was hardly an apology so again, Aziraphale never deigned to answer.

The third month, Crowley sent him pink phloxes. Aziraphale knew immediately that they were ones that Aziraphale had sent to him. He could tell by the feel of them, familiar with his own miracle. This time, Aziraphale kept the flowers, his office once again brightened by the color and freshened by the scent. The angel had been expecting a reminder of his and Crowley's friendship, but this felt like a total rejection, all because Aziraphale didn't want to be the one responsible for Crowley's death.

It was only the very next day that the last flowers Crowley ever sent to him before the demon went into hibernation turned up. The bouquet was composed of pink carnations and meadowsweet, and this time the messenger left as soon as the flowers were in Aziraphale's hand, not even waiting for money.

Aziraphale had to consult his book again, but he understood the message perfectly. "I'll never forget you," he murmured to himself, "and I'll be waiting." The angel quickly had to pull his glasses from the perch before it could catch any of his tears. It wouldn't be until WWII when he'd see Crowley again, but much like Crowley, he did not forget him, and he waited for his return.

* * *

_"Love of my life, you've hurt me._

_You've broken my heart and now you leave me._

_Love of my life, can't you see?_

_Bring it back, bring it back._

_Don't take it away from me, because you don't know_

_What it means to me."_

\- "Love of my Life," _Queen._


End file.
